


(I Think I’m) Falling for You

by Rhaized



Series: Adventures of Mary and Marisa [19]
Category: His Dark Materials (TV), His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
Genre: Academia, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And doesn't want to accept it, And it's such a good thing, But she can't help it, F/F, Marisa is falling for Mary, She doesn't quite understand it, Soft science gfs in the wake of all the angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 02:54:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29959881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhaized/pseuds/Rhaized
Summary: Marisa begins to realize that she is, in fact, falling for Dr. Mary Malone. And she’s not quite sure what to do about it.
Relationships: Marisa Coulter/Mary Malone
Series: Adventures of Mary and Marisa [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2073954
Comments: 3
Kudos: 25





	(I Think I’m) Falling for You

**Author's Note:**

> As my 40th fanfic posted on AO3, please accept some Maryisa in which Marisa realizes she is falling for Mary 🥰 I love them so (too) much.

The emails were the first indication to Marisa that she might be falling for Mary.

Generally speaking, emails were the bane of Marisa's existence. They were such dreadful things, full of too much information in too tiny font sent far too often throughout the day. Marisa was still just learning what they were, of course, as such correspondence didn't exist in any similar way in her world. Even though it'd only been a couple months, she _already_ had enough of the emails—so many _emails_. She felt like every other minute she was checking her email, lest she miss an urgent request or forget about a meeting or miss out on some important news. It wasn't right, the way Marisa felt tethered to her email like a ball and chain. But it was the way of life in academia, and in all business sectors, as Marisa had been learning. The burden of email was inevitable. 

Mary's emails were different, however. For a reason Marisa couldn't quite articulate, Mary's emails were sweet. They were full of such care and such spirit. She never started an email with "dear," for example, but switched it up every so often. "Cheerio Research Mates," one might say, or "Howdyo Lab Rats" another could open. It was strange and perhaps a bit much, but Marisa liked it. These greetings made her laugh, as well as pay attention in a world that constantly drew her away from mundane things such as emails. 

Mary also had a certain _tone_ about her that Marisa enjoyed. The thing about emails (and all forms of written communication, really) was that it was so hard to convey _actual feeling._ It was so easy to be misread in emails, like when one of the graduate students came howling to the department chair that Marisa told them they’d never make it in academia when that’s not what she said _at all_ and the girl just didn’t understand her humor. But Mary _never_ wrote emails in a way that could be possibly misread. She was quite literally a ray of sunshine in her emails, full of light and warmth and sparkle. It was annoying when it was anyone else, really (like that flighty woman over in biology), but because it was Mary, it was, dare Marisa say it…. _endearing._

Mary emailed Marisa individually as well, which made Marisa feel a very foreign sort of excitement bubble inside her every time she saw Mary’s name in her email notifications. 

_Other World Girl,_ one of the earlier emails opened, causing Marisa to both roll her eyes yet smile. It was incredibly outlandish and cringeworthy yet, somehow, still amusing. _Did you see this latest article? This guy made a good effort, but I think we could do better._

_Marisa from la Mer,_ another a few weeks later addressed her, which made Marisa blush more than she’d like to admit (did women usually know the etymology of other people’s names?). 

_Marisa, my esteemed colleague,_ another she just received began. It made Marisa snort, at the grandiosity and formality. _I am in dire need of a warm, caffeinated beverage and was pondering if you would care to join me across the street at the renown coffee establishment?_

It was cute, the way Mary played with words and tone and craft. Marisa wouldn't have thought a physicist to be so creative and artful. It wasn't necessarily their _thing,_ was it? To be so whimsical and entertaining? It was Mary's thing, at any rate. And Marisa very much enjoyed it, even as she pretended to be annoyed by it and would never publicly admit these things had any effect on her whatsoever.

She decided to accompany Mary on this "voyage," as she'd called it. She was all caught up on student papers, which was a rarity, and she had no other pressing deadlines for the morning. Marisa thus found it hard to say no. This was normal, anyway, wasn’t it? For colleagues to take a break and wander off campus together and go get coffee? Go chat? Go unwind and relax? 

_Why are you working so hard to justify it?_ the monkey drawled in the back of her mind, _bored._ He didn’t know what all the fuss was about, but that was probably just because he felt crabby about their entire working relationship. He was always stuffed in her _bag,_ or hidden under her desk, or left to crawl through the vents or under people’s cars or some other combination of ridiculous nonsense (in his opinion). To his mind and his understanding, Mary was just another obstacle for him to avoid. Another person in his way. Marisa tutted at him then, as he was being unreasonable and unhelpful and she didn’t want his negative energy consuming too much of her own.

With a heavy sigh Marisa snapped her laptop shut, grabbed her purse (and hence the money), and then headed toward the first floor lobby where she knew Mary would be waiting. 

The redhead was sitting on a bench near the main door, head buried in a book. Mary was always reading. Marisa was astounded by how much Mary simply _read,_ and how she _remembered_ all that she read and was able to synthesize it so clearly both in prose and in conversation whenever they talked about it or she helped the graduate students with it. That was hard for Marisa when she completed her studies back in her own world. She was intelligent, of course, but it took a certain kind of diligence and dedication to read not only consistently but broady in the way that Mary did. It was impressive, and admirable.

_Isn’t that what an academic is_ **_supposed_ ** _to do?_ the golden monkey grumbled, but again Marisa ignored him, her eyes still resting on Mary. 

After a few more moments passed, Marisa cleared her throat to announce her presence. Mary jumped slightly at the vocalization, her bangs falling onto her forehead before her lips moved up into an easy smile.

"Heya!" she greeted. “So sorry. Just got a bit lost here.”

“It’s not a problem,” Marisa said calmly, her eyes lowering to scan the book title out of curiosity. “What are you reading?”

“Oh, nothing,” Mary answered quickly, shoving the book into her bag before Marisa could catch it. That was strange, perhaps. Especially because the book didn’t _look_ academic but rather... _C_ _ommercial_.

_What is she doing?_ the monkey echoed, his curiosity _also_ piqued, which was perhaps a good thing as it roused him from his sour mood.

“What was it?” Marisa asked her again, a laugh creeping into her smile as she peered down at Mary gathering her things by the bench. Her mind, admittedly, tended to _wander_ to various places. She and the monkey both internally giggled at the thought, and of someone like _Mary_ possibly entertaining any of these thoughts. “A trashy romance novel, perhaps?”

Marisa didn’t expect the deep blush to enter Mary’s face then, or her blue eyes to widen before she ducked her head again and grabbed a folder from the floor. 

_I’ll be damned!_ the monkey howled, shifting around in her bag to peek out at Mary through the gap between the handles. Marisa laughed as Mary squirmed there on the bench before jumping up and muttering something about needing to balance work and leisure. It was utterly endearing, to see actual sweat pooling at the top of her head from her embarrassment as they headed out the door.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed,” Marisa offered as they stopped at the stoplight. Mary was still acting strange about it, and all flustered and nervous as they waited for the crossing signal to air. It amused Marisa, to see her like this. It amused the monkey, too, as he imagined more specifically what the book was about and what Mary was _into._ “I like to _indulge_ in things, too.”

_That_ seemed to only make the blushing worse as Mary turned to gawk at her. Marisa stifled a laugh and allowed Mary to abruptly change the subject, back to something that happened at the lab that wasn’t particularly that interesting or important but that seemed like the only thing Mary could think of at the moment.

_She’s into you,_ the monkey remarked after they’d left and they were back at the office—back to their boring and entirely predictable routine of their new life in a new place that felt new yet completely mundane.

_No,_ Marisa tossed back, and really, she couldn’t see it. Mary was friendly to everyone, literally _everyone_ from the full professors to the new faculty to the graduate students to the custodial staff. It was in Mary’s nature to be nice to people, from what Marisa could tell about her. It was part of who she was. And Marisa _was_ a person, despite what some from her world might think (the monkey chortled at that, as unacceptably delighted as he was at others’ varying perceptions of them).

It was _Marisa,_ perhaps, who was overthinking matters too much. Part of her did wonder if she...but she repressed it, as she had work to do and she was being childish and she couldn’t be bothered to get distracted in such trivial matters.

A week later Marisa realized the extent to which she started reading _into_ things, which she normally wasn't prone to do but couldn't help but do. 

What did Mary _really_ mean when she asked Marisa how she _was_ when she came into work in the morning _?_ Did she actually _care,_ or was it more a mere pleasantry treated the same for her as it was for everyone else? Marisa wondered, vageuly, whether anyone _else_ received personally-crafted and sculpted emails like she did, and how many other academics Mary invited out for coffee or talked to during breaks. She was still so new here and there were so many things she didn’t know that it was hard to calculate.

_Why don’t you just ask her?_ the monkey ventured, but Marisa practically hissed her disapproval for the idea. He had no tact. He didn’t _understand._ This was complicated, whatever it was that she was experiencing at this moment. She couldn’t just blurt things out.

_You have a crush,_ the monkey assured her, and again Marisa shot him down but, in the process, felt herself blush.

It was one of the most juvenile things she'd ever done, but when Marisa got back to the hotel later that evening and sat down on the bed, she picked up her smartphone, biting her lip. 

_Oh, you poor darling,_ the monkey mocked in her mind, laughing as Marisa's fingers moved to type "how to know if you have a crush."

The biggest signs, Marisa could glean, were two she started to notice more throughout the next few days: that you can't stop thinking about the other person and when you are talking to them or with them you feel "butterflies."

Was _that_ what Marisa was feeling? She was trying to focus during a faculty meeting. They were discussing graduate admissions, which was everyone's _favorite_ conversation for the ways they had to balance who they thought would accept their offer and how many lines they actually had to fund them. Mary was going on a passionate rant for why they should admit one of the women high on their list, citing her accomplishments and her letters of recommendation and all of the potential just _waiting_ to be tapped into. 

Marisa felt lost, watching her and listening to her. She used her hands a lot as she made her points, moving them up and waving them around in tune with her sentences. She also pounded the table a couple times when she disagreed with the graduate director. 

_Just look at her,_ Marisa rambled in her own mind, only half-aware of what she was even thinking. _She's so perfect._

_A little nerdy,_ the monkey added, peeping out from her bag, _and a but self-righteous at the moment, but okay._

Marisa also worried more and more about what she _wore,_ which felt absurd to say since she _always_ dressed nice and, for goodness sake, she didn't even know if Mary _noticed_ her or if she was even _into_ her (or women, which…Marisa was still trying to understand but wasn't going to worry about in that moment). 

_Of course she notices you,_ the monkey tutted from his perch on the nightstand. His eyes scanned over all of her outfits carefully as he made a suggestion or nodded in approval or snapped for her to take it off and go burn it in the fireplace. _How could she not notice you? How could anyone not?_

"That's not the same thing," she mumbled, shrugging into her blazer and then looking at herself in the mirror. She was wearing a matching black skirt and blazer with a pastel pink top underneath that was rather form-fitting and flaunted just the slightest amount of cleavage. "I want her to notice _me._ Not necessarily my body or…oh, hell, I don't even know."

_You really don’t,_ the monkey mused, practically purring as he watched her turn to her side and smooth down her skirt, looking at her rum. _You’re out of your depth here, Marisa._

She wasn’t, really. Marisa could handle it. The next week she tried to drive Mary Malone out of her mind, focusing solely on her work and her reading and her students and her courses and hardly anything else. She was so _tired_ as she did so, spending fourteen hours on campus before coming home to the hotel to throw back a glass of wine and then fall asleep watching those horrible soap operas that aired on the main channels. 

By the end of the week, however, she couldn’t entirely avoid Mary as the research group went out for drinks Friday evening and it would be career-damaging to miss it.

“Hey!” said a voice, _her_ voice. As Marisa was gathering up her bag and setting aside her papers for the weekend, she looked up to see Mary approach her. She was wearing dark blue, straight-legged jeans, as she normally did ( _why_ did Marisa know that?), but her top was different. It was fancier than some of her others: a dark blue, silk number that fit her form rather flatteringly and dipped a bit at the neck. 

Marisa felt something stir inside her, and then heard the monkey’s laughs reverberate through her mind as she cleared her throat and then smiled. “Hello, Mary.”

“I haven’t seen you around much this week,” Mary continued, waiting for Marisa and then falling into a comfortable pace beside her as they left the main office area, Marisa getting the light and Mary closing the door as they exited.

“Very busy, you know,” Marisa drawled, trying to calculate what to do.

_You can’t avoid her,_ the monkey sang, absolutely _gleeful_ as they headed down the hallway together. _You’re both going to the same place. You have no reason to run away._

“You doing alright, though, love?” Mary asked then, and Marisa’s heart did something strange as she heard that last word and felt Mary’s eyes shift to gaze at her softly. “I know you’ve been working through a lot of adjustments. New jobs are always hard at first. But I’m really glad you’re here.”

Marisa couldn’t handle it, the way her chest felt so _light_ as they continued through the building and then went outside, chatting freely now about work-life balance and new things on television and how nice it was to be going for a night out. It was easy talking to Mary. Like breathing, like sleeping. The monkey chuckled as Marisa marveled in how she was currently feeling, and how part of her was already dreading the inevitable moment they’d have to part ways.

_Oh, you’re deep into it now,_ the monkey observed, and Marisa didn’t argue. She didn’t agree, but yet..she couldn’t entirely argue with him.

Happy hour with the whole lab was absolutely boring except for Mary. Marisa made sure to sit down next to her in one of the booths. It was the two of them on one side with Oliver Payne and Dr. Peters the department chair across from them. Both men were excruciatingly boring, going on about their _work_ and about their _graduate school days_ and their _wives_ (poor dears, to put up with these insufferably men). But Mary and Marisa listened, smiling politely as they nursed their drinks, Mary a stout beer and Marisa a rum and coke.

“So sorry to interrupt, gentlemen,” Marisa said after about fifteen more painful minutes, “but I have to go to the lady’s room now.”

The men grumbled their acknowledgement and, as Marisa swung her legs around and set them on the ground, she felt Mary shuffle beside her, too. “I’ll come with you, Marisa.” 

_Bring me!_ the monkey insisted, but Marisa ignored him, smiling as Mary moved to follow her out of the little sitting room. It was noisy in the pub so they didn’t bother to speak as they made their way over to the end and then down a little corridor where the restrooms were.

“Thank _God,”_ Mary exclaimed as they entered the room. Marisa’s eyebrows raised as she looked at her. The redhead seemed quite tired suddenly. “Those idiots never stop talking, do they?”

Marisa laughed as she moved over to the sink to wash her hands. She didn’t _really_ have to go to the bathroom. She’d hardly touched her drink, of course. And it seemed that Mary likewise didn’t have a need to be here except to escape their company.

_And enjoy mine?_ Marisa had to wonder, vaguely somewhere in the back of her mind where not even the golden monkey was present.

“And alas the excuse of ‘going to the lady’s room,’” Marisa drawled, grinning at Mary through her reflection in the mirror. She was struck then by the way Mary was gazing at the mirror, at Marisa’s reflection in it. There was something intense about it that Marisa couldn’t quite describe. She wouldn’t say _hungry,_ as that was too predatory and Mary Malone was no such thing, but it was definitely something wanting. Or maybe Marisa was reading too much into things. In this moment she wished she _had_ brought the monkey after all, as he was better at sussing out this sort of thing.

“You’re so beautiful,” Mary blurted out then, and everything stopped. Marisa’s eyes locked on hers, again through the mirror. Her heart was beating faster and she felt such a _swirl_ in her stomach now as she kept staring at Mary, this mysterious person she’d been learning more and more about over the past few months and who now was the only thing in all of the universes that she cared to think about.

Yet, part of Marisa resisted. She didn’t have _time_ for this, for this distraction and these unannounced feelings. She was adjusting to a brand new job in a highly stressful context with much to do and much to lose. This wasn’t practical. This wasn’t essential. This wasn’t even necessarily _useful_ as it’d just distract her and detract from all of the work she needed to do.

A larger part of Marisa Coulter, however, didn’t seem to care. Without even thinking she whipped around and bolted toward Mary, pressing her lips against hers. Mary seemed surprised at the sudden contact as she jumped a little, but as Marisa moved her hand up to entwine in Mary’s hair and leaned closer to her, Mary reciprocated, her own hand moving to Marisa’s side and her other to her face.

It was intoxicating, the rush that overcame Marisa as she kissed Mary a bit harder even and shifted so that their bodies were pressed practically together. She was feeling breathless, _actually_ a little breathless, and thought fleetingly about what Mary would do if she slipped her tongue in her mouth when they heard someone by the door and they broke apart, standing on opposite sides of the little entrance way as two giggly women stepped inside, smiling before making their ways over to the stalls.

They were silent for a few moments as they exited the bathroom and lingered outside in the corridor, the buzz of the bar swirling all around them. Marisa wondered what Mary was thinking. She’d been bold— _quite_ bold, she knew, and perhaps _too_ bold. Marisa didn’t know what she was thinking. She wasn’t even drunk! She’d barely even touched her drink because those bozo men made her want to claw her own eyes out. There was just something about the way Mary had been looking at her and the feel in the air and the rush in her stomach that made her do it. And she _thought_ she felt Mary return it, although perhaps that was wishful thinking, and she was again reading too much _into_ things as she suddenly had been doing. 

“Well,” said Mary after what felt like hours but was probably only a few minutes, “that was nice.”

Again, Marisa’s heart leapt. It actually felt like it moved and had a beating, breathing presence of its very own. “You thought so?”

“I did,” Mary answered, and she offered Marisa a shy smile now as she moved just a little bit closer. Close enough that Marisa could look into the deep blue of her eyes that glimmered in the reflection of all the lights.

And so they went back to their booth and the boring men, walking in a peaceful yet happy sort of silence as they slid back into their seats. They sat closer together now as the men continued to babble, emboldened by their second drinks as still Mary and Marisa tended to their first, their legs now gently brushing as they inched closer and closer to one another.

_You like her,_ the monkey said as Mary and Marisa were bidding their farewells to the men at the bar and then walking side-by-side together to _another_ bar, this time just the two of them.

  
_I do,_ Marisa conceded, smiling a silly sort of grin as she looked beside her and took in Mary’s bright, radiant face as they walked down the sidewalk, full of nothing but imprecise feelings and happiness as they set out to enjoy the rest of their Friday evening.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, Marisa. Just enjoy yourself ❤️


End file.
